Pulling the Strings
by shdw dncr
Summary: Co-written with drgn grl. There is a new enemy who has joined many of Batman's old enemies together to take him down. Also, a new, strange group of thieves has shown its face in Gotham. How will the Dynamic Duo fare against two new battle fronts?


_Hi, everyone! This is shdw dncr welcoming you to the city of Gotham! Drgn grl and I are very please you could join us on this new adventure of the Caped Crusader. You will see many villains, old and new, canonical to the Animated Series and also not. All the Batman characters are not owned by us; we are borrowing them. There are a few of our own characters in here and those are ours. We claim them (whether we really want to or not). Enjoy!_

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It was rather quiet at the Iceberg Lounge. Glasses clinking, people chatted light-heartedly over the soft jazz music that floated from the iceberg centerpiece of the main floor. It was business as usual as Oswald Cobblepot surveyed the first floor of his lounge from his private dining area on the balcony-style second floor. He was watching one table in particular. The woman was dressed elegantly as if on a dinner date, but there was no one else. She had a glass of wine on the table before her, untouched. She hadn't looked at her silver bracelet-watch even once for the twenty minutes she had been sitting there. She merely sat in her strapless, backless black dress with elbow-length black gloves and dainty black heels.

"Raven," Oswald called, snapping his fingers. "Tell me, who is that woman sitting by herself?"

The black-haired waitress followed his gesture and checked the guest list. "That is Senna Knight. Reservation for two for 10:00 pm. Ordered a glass of chardonnay upon being seated."

"And she hasn't ordered anything else or had any calls notifying her of her date's late arrival?"

Raven looked down at the table and checked her notes again. "It appears not, sir. I have no record of either."

He nodded. "I see. That's all, Raven." He excused his waitress. He waited and watched for about two more minutes. The woman neither touched her drink nor moved from her table. She only sat, looking casually at the diners around her and at the iceberg. He decided to play the 'ever-caring host' and pay her a visit.

"Good evening, my dear lady," the short, stout man said, approaching the lone blonde.

Now that he was closer, he noted a subtle beauty about her. It was hard to describe. It was more in the simplicity of the onyx pendant on a silver chain and matching stud earrings, her calm, cool demeanor after waiting half an hour for her dinner date to show, and the smoothness of her motions.

"If you're having trouble deciding on something to order, perhaps I can help."

The lady smiled. It was a gentle, welcoming smile, but also felt a little playful and coy. "Thank you, but I'm not terribly hungry at the moment. I'm actually waiting for someone." Her deep blue eyes stared into Oswald and he felt as if they were portals to an ocean that would sweep him away with a mere blink. It was quite unsettling.

"I see," the host replied, doing his best to steel himself against her charm. "I can see to it that you are notified immediately upon his arrival."

"I would appreciate that greatly," she said with a nod. "Perhaps he has even already arrived." Her eyes almost sparkled with a laughter that her mouth did not utter.

"Perhaps." Oswald motioned over Lark and she stood with pen and paper at the ready. "Name?"

Senna Knight's eyes continued to laugh their clever, silent laugh as she leaned forward onto her elbows. "Penguin."

Both host and waitress started. "My dear," the Penguin said, a bit baffled, "do you know to whom you are speaking?"

"Indeed, the very bird I've been looking forward to meeting."

At that, Penguin gave a rather pleased grin and sent the red-head away. "And why is that?" he asked, sliding into the empty seat opposite his guest.

"Because they say you are the one to talk to about strategy and information." Senna relaxed, leaning back in her seat again with her hands in her lap.

Penguin gave her a disbelieving look. "You do realize I'm not in that line of work anymore."

"What line of work?" she asked lightly. "I was thinking more of chess. Of pawns and rooks, kings and queens, knights…dark and light."

The Penguin's demeanor darkened, but it slowly worked its way back up to calm and calculating. "And what exactly would my part be? Pawn or King?"

"I prefer to think of us as the players. If we plan properly, even if all of our pieces are taken, _we_ will not be."

The Penguin gave a small 'harrumph.' "Impossible. The opposing knight wouldn't allow that."

"The opposing player is also a piece on the playing field which limits what he can see happening. We will be seeing the field from above while he will be seeing it from the same level as all the other pieces. And, like all chess masters preparing for a game, I've studied my opponent's games. I've made notes and I'm ready to start planning my own strategy against him. But, I need you, Oswald." Senna stared directly into the Penguin's eyes, capturing his gaze and full attention. "I need another master strategist—someone who knows the ins and outs of this city, who knows the players and has a foothold in this world already to help collect them for this game. I need _you_ on my side."

Oswald drummed his fingers together, leaning back in his chair. He tried to withhold his intrigue, but it was quite obvious he was hooked. "And if I do join in this little game of yours, what would I get out of it? What could you possibly offer me?"

Senna leaned forward a bit, smiling. "_Winning_ the game."

Penguin cracked a smile, pleased with the possibility. Already, the gears in his head were turning as he thought of all the things he wanted to do to his enemy.

"But of course," Senna said lightly, leaning back in her chair, "I can't go into detail here. One never knows what unsavory characters are listening in."

"Harrumph, harrumph," Penguin chuckled. "Very true, my dear, and, since this is business, I would prefer my office anyways." He stood and walked around the table to offer his arm. "Shall we?"

Senna smiled easily and stood, sliding her hand under his arm. She let him lead her away from the table and the untouched glass of wine. Oswald led Senna up to his office on the second floor. Double wooden doors opened up to a spacious room, painted in dark and icy blues. Tasteful modern art graced the walls sparingly. Four chairs were placed around the room and another was behind a heavy oak desk. Floor to ceiling windows took up an entire wall. Four potted plants were dispersed in the room and two corners were taken up by tall, elegant lamps. Oswald motioned her to sit in a chair facing his desk and he took his rolling wingback chair behind his desk. He turned on his desk lamp, illuminating that portion of the room, and adjusted his desk calendar as he spoke.

"So, Miss Knight, about this game… What are our pieces?"

Without saying a word, Senna sat in the chair, her legs crossed, and reached into her hand clutch. She pulled out a rectangular box about the size of a tape recorder and placed it on the edge of the desk. Oswald was about to ask what it was when she pressed one of the buttons. They both flinched, Penguin more than Senna, as a high-pitched whine filled their ears. After thirty long seconds, Senna pressed another button, turning it off.

"My apologies for that," Senna said, tucking it away back in her clutch. "I don't like recording devices. Sadly, my technician assures me he can't possibly get rid of that noise. He says it's too high-pitched for most people to hear anyways."

"I see," Oswald replied with a clearing shake of his head. "A very clever trinket you've got there."

Senna smiled. "Thank you. I shall pass on the compliment to my technician. He will be pleased to hear you think so. Now then," She relaxed, coolly gazing at Oswald, "I would like you to contact the Joker, Two-Face, Mr. Freeze, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, the Mad Hatter, Firefly, the Riddler, and Jane Doe. That is the first step."

Oswald frowned. "Not to put a damper on things, but most of those persons are currently in Arkham. How do you expect me to—"

"I'm sure you'll find a way," the blonde interrupted with a dismissive gesture. "Contact them and take them to a warehouse. Separately would be better. We wouldn't want to raise too much attention now, would we?"

"Getting them out of Arkham is easier said than done," Penguin grumbled.

"But you've all done it before," came the quick and easy reply.

The Penguin scoffed. "Not in the scale that you are proposing. The Batman would be on our trail in an instant!"

Senna sighed. "Very well. I'll talk with my technician about arranging something."

"And who, exactly, is your technician?" Oswald asked, raising an eyebrow.

Senna smiled. "A great mind in the field of technology and someone else who has a bone to pick with the caped crusader." Her smile dropped. "Unfortunately, there is no way I can see to covertly extract the players from Arkham, so we'll just have to do it without them getting caught right away. Perhaps…timing certain doors to open…"

_Meanwhile, in the Batcave…_

Five shadowed figures busied themselves with minute cameras hung in strategic positions in dark crevices while the sixth was seated at the Bat computer, her silver boots propped up and a monitor in her lap as she flipped through the channels.

"Cat, a little to the left. Crystelle, tilt down 10 degrees. Star, you're fine. Magia, you're fine. Raiye, you're upside down."

"It is not!" came the indignant reply from elsewhere in the cave.

The computer guru held up her monitor over her head. She flipped through the channels again, showing the difference between the other four and hers. "Upside down. Turn it around."

"Serpent, is this good?" asked the Screaming Cat.

The Silver Serpent looked at Cat's channel. "A little more…little more and tilt down slightly. Good." She flipped to the next one. "Crystelle, you're good." Another three clicks. "Raiye! 'Turn it around' does not mean 'Face the rocks'!"

The white-cloaked figure stuck out her tongue at the brunette in the silver body suit and then turned the camera back around and right-side-up. Serpent only sighed, paying attention to her monitor.

"Down a bit. More. To the left. Your _other_ left. Your _other_ other left, Raiye. Little more. Good. Leave it there."

"How about the message on the computer?" Cat asked, walking towards the techie. "How's that coming along?" The leader was dressed in pants, a vest tied shut with cords, knee-high boots, elbow-length gloves, and a mask covering her face from her nose down—all in dark leather. Her dark blonde hair fell loosely to her mid-back and her blue eyes pierced the darkness.

Serpent said nothing, held up three fingers, and counted down. At zero, her monitor beeped quietly and a chip ejected itself from Batman's computer. She pulled it from the port with a smug little grin. "Any other questions?" she asked, replacing it in the port of her monitor.

"Can we go home now?" Sun Raiye asked, appearing behind the Cat. "I'm hungry and sugar deprived."

"You've been chewing gummy bears this entire time," Element Magia said with a chuckle, popping up with the group. She wore a matching shimmering tank and mini-skirt. She also had a black belt, blue gloves, and knee-high boots. Her mousey brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail and her honey eyes sparkled with her smile.

"Do you even have pockets in that outfit?" asked Crystelle. She wore a blue cloak over a blue pants-suit.

"She sewed them in herself a long time ago," Evenstar answered from her black cloak. "I'm surprised none of you noticed."

The Screaming Cat withheld a laugh. "Anyway, now that the computer's set, we should—"

She instantly went quiet as Crystelle's head snapped towards the elevator. With a quick motion from a blue gloved hand, all six women scattered over the sides of the rock platform. A moment later, the elevator door opened and the elderly Alfred Pennyworth stepped out. With a hum, he looked around. Noticing nothing out o the ordinary, he went about his business, dusting tables and equipment. There was no movement besides his until after he re-entered the elevator and the door closed. Seconds later, six figures ran out the secret entrance of the cave.

"Seriously, Cat, he needs a redecorator," Magia commented. "Just a couple of nice curtains or something, I promise."

"Maybe next trip, Magia," came the reply, intoned as a 'no.'

"…Damn it…"

"Can we paint his car?" Raiye chirped.

"…Maybe…"

_Later that evening…_

Selene dropped her black clutch and house key on the marble hall table with a small sigh. She let her hair down as she walked into the main room. Chairs and sofas encompassed a glass coffee table on three sides, the fourth already occupied by a fireplace with a roaring fire and a plasma television hanging above it. A man with black pants and a poet's shirt on stood up from his place on one of the sofas, grinning.

"How did it go?" he asked in a deep, mellow voice. She sighed again.

"We can count on his support, but his voice is so grating." She rolled her eyes, peeling off her heels as she walked towards him. "Which reminds me. Does the anti-spyware bug-thing _really_ have to have such a high-pitch screech to it?"

"I've said it before, Miss Selene, it's not my fault you're one of the few people in the world who react to that frequency. Most human ears don't pick it up."

"And yet, both myself and the Penguin can hear it. Ugh. I don't know how I'm going to stand those long meetings hearing him talk…" Selene sighed again, dropping into a chair. She started peeling off her long gloves. "Also, apparently Penguin is too incompetent to get some of our players out of Arkham. We're going to have to pull a few strings for him on this one."

He chuckled and sat on the arm of her chair, draping his arm along the back as he leaned closer. "So be it. And it's a good thing you have me to come home to. You can always look forward to my soothing voice."

"Yes…" Selene said, smiling up at him and lightly petting his arm with a bare hand. "I love your voice. Your voice and your touch are the only things that can relax me. Would you sing something for me? I so love your voice…"

He chuckled, getting up to pour them both glasses of wine. "Let's see…" He began to hum a few bars to warm his voice.

_The following night…_

The old abandoned warehouse was a wreck. The power had been shut off long ago and no one even thought about repairing the holes in the walls and roof. Water dripping accompanied the scurrying and squabbling of mice and rats. However, on that particular night, the mice and rats stayed out of the main work area.

"I'm bored!" Harley Quinn complained again, rocking back and forth on an old box. "This place is a dump! When are they gonna get here?!"

"Can it!" Harvey Dent snapped, both his scarred and normal face twisted in a snarl. He was impatiently flipping a coin between his fingers as he leaned against a pillar. "We all know you're bored."

"That doesn't change the fact we're getting impatient with Penguin," Poison Ivy said crossly. "What does he want with us?"

"Who knows?!" Joker said, his hands in the air as he paced. "But as long as I get to face off with Batsy, I'm okay!"

"I don't mind working with you nut jobs," Firefly said, standing patiently in his grey full-body suit and insect eyes. "It's the iceman I have a problem with."

"That problem can be remedied," Freeze said in his echoing tenor as he raised his charging freeze gun.

"Gentlemen, please," Penguin said, the Mad Hatter and a woman dressed in a white nurse's uniform on either side of him. "Control yourselves."

"So, you've finally decided to arrive," Scarecrow said, stepping forward out of the shadows.

Penguin gave a 'harrumph,' twisting his umbrella. "It took a bit more convincing to get Jane, here, to join us than the rest of you, but I couldn't very well leave her out as she was specifically requested—as were the rest of you."

"Yes, but by who?" Ivy asked.

"'Whom', my dear," Riddler corrected. "The correct term is 'whom'."

"By me," came the answering bass. A figure standing about five-eight walked out of the shadows. A grey hooded robe covered most of his body. Loose black sleeves tucked into thick grey gloves and black pants tucked into grey boots. A metal mask hid the features of the man's face, completing the disguise. His presence surprised many of his associates. "I am the Mastermind. You are all here for one reason. I believe that if you all were to work together, the Batman could be brought down."

"You expect _us_ to work together?" Ivy said incredulously.

"You have done it before," the Mastermind answered patiently. "The only difference this time is that I ask you to work together longer. _And_ by _my_ rules, so I suppose that makes two differences."

"Indeed it does," Riddler mused. "I am intrigued though. I'm in."

"I would like to know more before I add myself to the mixture," Mr. Freeze said.

"The mixture is already set, Mr. Freeze. The only way out now is to return to Arkham," the bass rumbled.

"Even if we do join," Harley piped, "I ain't changin' nothin' I do! Right, Puddin'?" She cooed to Joker.

"Of course not, Harley, pumpkin," Joker replied, cupping her chin. "Our style is our own." He turned to Mastermind and his face turned to a snarl. "And that isn't changing."

The Mastermind was not affected in the slightest. "You may do as you wish to accomplish your task when it is assigned to you. There will be, of course, limitations, but not beyond what I believe is necessary."

"As long as those limitations don't include not killing the Bat," Two-Face said, still flipping his coin, "I'm in."

Mastermind turned silently to Scarecrow who raised an eyebrow.

"What? Are you waiting for some whiny complaint as to why I shouldn't work with you or these other lunatics?" he asked. He gave a curt laugh. "Not a chance. If we're taking down Batman, I'm all for it."

"Same here," Firefly agreed.

"As am I," Mad Hatter said, tipping his hat.

"Eh, what's the worst that could happen?" Ivy said with a shrug.

Penguin and Mastermind turned to Jane Doe. She smoothed out her dress. "I suppose… You did convince me to come, didn't you?"

Penguin nodded and looked at the last member of their company. "Mr. Freeze, are you with us?"

Only a few pairs of eyes turned to him. The rest had looks of general disinterest. Freeze took a few moments before returning Penguin's gaze. "I agree."

Harley gave a hoot and holler. "Yes! One for all and all for killing the Bat!"

Two-Face growled. "Don't you ever shut up?"

"Tell me about it," Joker grumbled.

Before Harley could explode, Penguin cut in. "Now, now, everyone, let's not break apart already."

"Indeed." Mastermind turned his attention up to the work office. "You may join us now."

On cue, another figure left the shadows and slid down a rope from the office window to the work floor. He wore blue leggings and a blue poet's shirt along with green fluted shoes and belt. A golden eagle spread its wings across the front of his blue and white checkered tabard. Short blonde hair curled close to his head under a blue hat with red and green feathers sticking out of a black sash. A mandolin was slung across his back and a charming grin covered his face ear to ear.

"This is the Minstrel," the Mastermind said as the Minstrel gave a flourished bow, pulling his hat off his head. "He is my technician for this job. Ask him for anything you may need; however, he will be the final say when it comes to technology."

"I beg your pardon!" the Riddler cried.

"I beg yours," replied the Minstrel, going over to him. He offered a hand, his hat replaced on his head. "Riddler, correct? Splendid work with that maze of yours. Pleased to meet its creator."

Riddler swelled a little and shook Minstrel's hand. "Well, I suppose two heads will be better than one for technological purposes."

"I'm glad you two will get along fine because you are working together to rebuild the maze," the Mastermind said. He turned to the others in turn. "Ivy, you are with the Hatter. Wonderland needs refurbishing. Two-Face is with Freeze, Joker has Harley, and Scarecrow, you are with Firefly."

"What about her?" Ivy asked, suspiciously eyeing Jane Doe.

"She has a small part in many facets of the plan," the bass smoothly replied. "I would ask all of you to lie low until your tasks have been completed. Unnecessary attention is not conducive to our activities." He turned to Harley and Joker.

The pair stared blankly back at the Mastermind for a moment before realizing his meaning. The Joker looked away, holding his lapels in mock anger.

"Hey, what are you lookin' at us for?" Harley squeaked indignantly, her hands on her hips. "We can stay quiet if we wanna!"

"I'm sure you can," Mastermind replied with sarcasm, "but I need the two of you for the opening act. If you'll come this way…" He gestured towards a stairwell behind him. When they approached, he addressed the rest of them. "Jane, please remain and wait for my return. I have need of you. Firefly, that crate is for you. The rest of you may disperse. Penguin will be in touch with you." He turned slightly, but stopped. "Also, I'll only say this once." He paused to ensure he had their attention. "This was your one free pass out of Arkham. If my script has to be rewritten because of you, so be it." With that, he walked away followed by the Penguin, Joker, and Harley.

"What about those of us who didn't get that pass?" Firefly called out. He received no response.

"I think he meant you, too, Flamebug," Ivy said, crossing her arms.

The others wandered off in their own directions except for Jane who remained, keeping her dress in pristine condition, and Firefly and Ivy who curiously looked at the crate Harley had been sitting on.

"So what's in there for you?" Ivy asked.

"There's only one way to find out." Firefly removed the crate's lid and looked inside. "What in the world?" He pulled out a black and gold suit. The helmet, boots, and gold power cell/fuel tank were still in the crate. He gave a low whistle. "Well, isn't that something?"

"Hm, much more attractive than that grey drab you're wearing now," Ivy commented, looking in the crate. She pulled out a piece of paper which Firefly grabbed out of her hands.

The printer paper had a message, computer-typed: _Test at your leisure. Remember, no unnecessary attention. P.S. If anyone else were to use your flare gun against you, your fuel pack is more than highly flammable._

"I think that's a clue to not have your flare gun, Flamebug," Ivy said, reading it over his shoulder.

"Thank you very much for your insight, Miss Vine," Firefly said coldly, jerking away from her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a suit to test out."

"Ivy," she retorted, "and I have a garden to tend."

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_Thanks so much for reading! Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know! Til next time!_

_luv ~ shdw_


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